


Active vs Passive watch

by gimmethaticecream



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Gen, Original Character Death(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:09:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gimmethaticecream/pseuds/gimmethaticecream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pre-Dominion, 20th century-<br/>Michael wanders earth, watching humans he chose to bury The Flood he once was, Gabriel doesn't help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Active vs Passive watch

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like reading/writing about the babysteps Michael made from the Exodus to Vega.  
> Sorry if I speak my own charabia.

A few stars were still fighting up against the dawn as the sky brightened pink at the horizon. It was almost 5 am in Nevada and the fresh air of the night rushing against his skin as he raced through the desert was Michael's new treat on earth.

When the feared archangel was forced out of his human massacres, old testament wrath that inspired the Exodus book, he retreated. He wrapped himself in his own failure to pass his father's test. Even after witnessing the kindness of a human, it was impossible to see humans and not rip some heads off. It took centuries of restrictions, wandering earth to only miss the adrenaline of fights and ignore the buried war thirst. Over thousands of years, watching humans became casual, sharing their world without temporing it. He, the sword of God, passively watch. He was the nonchalant witness who'd raise a brow at an aggression in a dark alley, the man with a an old baseball cap in the crowd, blending in. Michael liked to consider himself as the man with the black covette. The police agents on patrol from Utah to Nevada heard about this convertible defying speed limits, tracked it, but never got a grasp of the said car and its owner.

Michael pulled his shades up to his forehead, lifting his chin up as the first rays of sun progressed from his scalp down his V-neck tshirt. The corner of his lips twitched. The sun rising up in the desert, him, his sport car: that was the kind of small thing humans would feel happy about and he had to admit, he could give into those pointless joys. Still his face remained _pretty plain_.  
That was how Patty, the waitress in the Blue Lagoon diner, described him to her new colleague, not so discreetly, just a month ago. _Pretty plain cold ass weirdo_ , actually. Now that was disrespectul of her: he had seen her grow up. Maybe he missed a few monthly visits here and there, but little did she know about that part. Little did she know about an archangel watching her anyway.  
He had only dropped by her workplace 8-10 times a year as a random customer, openly interacting with her, which was fairly unlikely of him. As a matter of fact, Michael had found a few 'occupations' over the years. Unusual births he'd witness would have him checking-in the humans' growth until their death. A perpetual hide and seek game except humans didn't play the hiding part that well when they weren't aware of the game on. Truth be told, they weren't even allowed to acknowledge his presence so far. He was just a silent wake, frequently catching up with the frivolous drama of their lives and no protective guarding.

Patty was raised in Texas and she left home at 17 to live on her own. The Blue Lagoon was supposed to be her transitory occupation, but there she was, on top of her 24th year, waiting on his scrambled eggs and bacon on a Tuesday morning. The archangel didn't expect anything from the woman, and she didn't seem to expect anything more from her life either.  
"You like it here don't you?"  
Michael's dark eyes rolled up slowly at her sudden and unexpected question: a trivial yet major change to his routine. Patty was the only human he had approached since well, there was nothing to watch her from in the desert, no library on the other side ofthe street, no garden she'd walk her dog to, no dog anyway. It was a small block with the only gas pump with a garage-boutique-motel and the diner for miles in the desert.  
He stared at her for a second silently and answered with an unreadable facial expression.  
"Not particularly. Do you?"  
The crimson faux-leather of his padded seat produced a deaf squeal as his thin yet long body rotated to face the waitress. Patty looked surprised by his question. Nobody relly cared wether she liked it or not, so she couldn't help but feel some irony in such an inquiry. Anybody would expect the life of a waitress in such a diner to be quite boring. She rested his plate on the table she walked away from his booth to get the rest of the order from the counter.  
The archangel in his dark jacket kept his eyes on her regardless of the rudeness. She still had the three freckles on the tip of her nose, the ones he had first noticed on the night she turned 4. He remembered how after a few minutes watching her sleep, he'd bent over her bed to hear her fast heartbeat distinctly and his eyes were close enough to notice a slight change on the tiny red tip of her nose. They shown so much more now that the desert marked her complexion with tan and freckles all over her back and shoulders.  
"Not particularly" was her answer, mimic.  
So he assumed she had not yet decided where to go after that. She was the kind of human who would just snap and move on.  
"Here's not that bad either." Patty shrugged and walked away as the cook called her in.  
Michael still couldn't quite get in the humans' heads yet. At least he didn't feel like murder anymore, that was the whole point of his passive watch.

He dug in his breakfast. For once he let Patty watch over him from behind the counter for a few minutes and he didn't mind. He could feel her eyes on him and concluded it was safe for him to get involved a little. That was his new baby step: the random encounter with his protégé.  
The food and drinks were useless to his body, still he found himself blending quite right as he gave in occasional meals with background motivations. And it stroke him: maybe it was time to make waves, try some active watch, see where it leads.  
The last time he'd turned the life of a human around was to put it to an end. Nothing killed humans better than The Flood. Since then he has inched closer over two thousands years to this point.  
"Move. You'd make it anywhere." He said without looking up, loud enough to be heard from behind the counter. He sounded like he knew all about her, at least that what she thought. No matter how irritating that felt, she wanted to believe the stranger. On those words he left the fee and a generous tip worth a one way ticket to New York if she was up to it. The waitress watched the man push the glass door of the diner, walking out and something told her he'd never come back. She was just starting to reconsider the _plain_ qualification she labelled him with.  
She counted her tips mouthing: _pretty cold ass weirdo_.

Back on the road to the south, Michael peered at the tiny Blue Lagoon in the rearview mirror right on time to witness its explosion. His wings projected him out of his vehicle in a powerful pound, leaving it on the run on the straight road. The archangel flew in the direction of the diner, certain no one survived such a blast. It didn't last before the gas pump detonated, amplifying the fireball rising up in the sky. That explosion was no coincidence, nothing on this earth was a matter of coincidence. But the prematured death of one of _his_ humans was definitely a direct strike against him.

  
"Can't you smell it?"  
The voice and the smell were familiar. Michael could even push the similarity by asserting everytime he had heard the voice of his brother, that peculiar smell of disaster was predominant. He touched the ground smoothly close to the wreckage on fire, shrinking his nose in discontent. The smell of blood and destruction alerted his brain, tensed his muscles. The door back to his Era of wrath and bloodshed was this close, shaking his fingers and buzzing in his head. His eyes tracked the shadow of the angel, circling the impact of the explosion like a bird of prey.  
"The old times!"  
Michael forced his sight up, squinting his eyes in annoyance as he watched the theatrical landing of Gabriel before him. His massive wings dusted off ashes at each of his steps toward Michael.  
"I guess I can get a kick at destruction too, brother."  
He was laughing like his favorite team won the superbowl. Unlike Gabriel's ability to go from amused to mocking, pissed to disdainful; Michael seemed limited and he never tried putting more effort into his looks: his lack of reaction and thoughtful stares either made him look odd -if not creepy- to strangers or condescending to his relatives. Nothing in between, no alternative look.  
"Well brother, you've been watching those humans for over 200 lifetimes, you still don't get them and you serve me that same contemptuous look you gave these weak creatures not that long ago?"  
Gabriel mused a _Come on_ gesture. The whole point of his attack made Michael cringe inside. If it was meant to trouble his mind, tempt him to his old wrath, his brother succeeded. His finally spoke up.  
"So first you beat me up to stop massacres, and now that I'm getting there, you seek my old ways?"  
Gabriel's hand reached for his shoulder, but Michael left him, he had no time for the whatever lesson the other had planned to demonstrate after killing two employees of the diner and three random customers. He promptly turned around, walking back in the direction of his car which strayed in the desert at a moderate speed now.

Patty was gone, but he wasn't sad.  
This whole active versus passive watch seemed like a waste of their lives, and a waste of his time. That latter was certainly the lesson Gabriel had in mind: y _ou're wasting time on humans, why do you have to be so involved with humans wether to their downfall or in their favor_ or some crap about weakening himself by spending too much time amongst them. Nothing he needed to hear right now. Michael's wings unfurled again.  
"Give me a break." He took off prematurely.  
He knew damn well how his complete disregard over Gabriel was jeopardizing any other humans he'd watched. Maybe it was time to leave his usual interests rather than putting them in danger. Back in his convertible, he rolled the wheel with strength, gearing his car back to the road as he pondered where he'd be able to lay low. 

Michael could now appreciate how human life became somewhat precious to him. If it wasn't for the beautiful sunrise he'd enjoyed earlier, he'd be giving his brother some tough shit about screwing with their father's creations.  
"Did I dare break one of your toys?"  
The intruder laid down in the backseat, not quite done with him.  
Michael turned his head to the side, peeking at his brother from the corners of his eyes.  
"Is it already the SPIT-IN-MICHAEL'S-PLATE appointment of the year because I'd rather end this joke of a day right away."  
His hand reached to the side seat for his sunglasses, darting far off the ashes Gabriel made of the Blue Lagoon and a few unfortunates.  
"If we're to discuss table manners, then it's about time for your head flick for I recall you spread ketchup over your egg yolk. The waitress, who let that mess happen right before her eyes already had her share of responsibility, she is no more."  
Michael's voice rose by the end if his sentence.  
"This is no joke Gabriel, if you have to make a statement you could just speak as a mean of communication."  
"So it's still vivid. Isn't it?"  
The troublemaker jumped right behind his seat, and although Michael knew how close his brother leaned to his side he did not move from his seat, watching his brother take his shades off.  
"The Flood is right here, amongst humans, trying to redeem himself. But The Flood is just covering up, bottling up."  
Michael remained silent, feeling his twin's sly grin pressed against his earlobe. The latter's plans were always undefined until they were executed with success.  
"I think you'll get to that peace with humans, mingling with the inferior creatures. And I have faith they'll disappoint you so much someday, you'll spill again in disastrous ways."

Michael sighed, his eyes shifting back to the road. He heard a rustle of feathers, indicating he was now alone in the car. If Gabriel had let him react, he'd certainly agree in silence. The point was to try reaching out. Try better and maybe just maybe, humanity would be worth his watch someday.


End file.
